Tidings of these parleys,and marches,and surrenders of cities came to us at Tours,the King sending letters to his good towns by messengers.One of these,the very Thomas Scott of whom I have before spoken,a man out of Rankelburn,in Ettrick Forest,brought a letter for me,which was from Randal Rutherford.
"Mess-John Urquhart writes for me,that am no clerk,"said Randal,"and,to spare his pains,as he writes for the most of us,I say no more than this:come now,or come never,for the Maid will ride to see Paris in three days,or four,let the King follow or not as he will."There was no more but a cross marked opposite the name of Randal Rutherford,and the date of place and day,August the nineteenth,at Compiegne.
My face fired,for I felt it,when I had read this,and I made no more ado,but,covenanting with Thomas Scott to be with him when he rode forth at dawn,I went home,put my harness in order,and hired a horse from him that kept the hostelry of the "Hanging Sword,"whither also I sent my harness,for that I would sleep there.This was all done in the late evening,secretly,and,after supper,Ibroke the matter to my master and Elliot.Her face changed to a dead white,and she sat silent,while my master took the word,saying,in our country speech,that "he who will to Cupar,maun to Cupar,"and therewith he turned,and walked out and about in the garden.
We were alone,and now was the hardest of my work to do,to comfort Elliot,when,in faith,I sorely needed comfort myself.But honour at once and necessity called me to ride,being now fit to bear harness,and foreseeing no other chance to gain booty,or even,perchance,my spurs.Nor could I endure to be a malingerer.She sat there,very white,her lip quivering,but her eyes brave and steadfast.
I kneeled beside her,and in my hands I took her little hand,that was cold as ice.
"It is for the Maid,and for you,Elliot,"I whispered;and she only bent her head on my shoulder,but her cold hand gripped mine firmly.
"She did say that you should come back unharmed of sword,"whispered Elliot,looking for what comfort she might."But,O my dear!you may be taken,and when shall I see you again?Oh!this life is the hardest thing for women,who must sit and tremble and pray at home.
Sure no danger of war is so terrible!Ah,must you really go?"Then she clung so closely about me,that it seemed as if I could never escape out of her arms,and I felt as if my heart must break in twain.
"How could I look men in the face,and how could I ever see the Maid again,if I go not?"I said;and,loosening her grasp,she laid her hands on my shoulders,and so gazed on me steadfastly,as if my picture could be fixed on the tablets of her brain.
"On your chin is coming a little down,at last,"she said,smiling faintly,and then gave a sob,and her lips met mine,and our very souls met;but,even then,we heard my master's steps hobbling to the door,and she gave a cry,and fled to her chamber.And this was our leave-taking--brief,but I would not have had it long.
